We chose a space on the bluffs overlooking the ocean where there was a flat patch of grass and bare rock to sit on and from where we could watch the waves pounding the beach and the rocks below. Brook had thought ahead enough to bring along a blanket and a pair of large towels from the guest house linen closet. Now she spread them on the ground for us, sat down on one of the towels, and began eating a thick turkey-and-cheddar sandwich. The others took food from the cooler and sat around eating and drinking and speculating about whether the Silk symbionts hated their Ina.
“I think they do,” Celia said. “They must. I would if I had to put up with those people.”
“They don’t,” Brook said. “I met one of them when they first arrived. She’s a historian. She writes books—novels under one name and popular history under another. She says she couldn’t have found a better place to wind up. She says Russell’s generation and even Milo help her get the little details right, especially in the fiction. She says she likes working with them. Maybe she’s unusual, but I didn’t get the feeling that she resented them.”
Joel said, “I think that doctor who questioned Shori yesterday joined them so he could learn more about what they are and what makes them tick. I wonder what questions he would have asked if he’d had a choice.”
“He’s definitely hungry to know more,” I said. “He wants to understand how we survive terrible injuries, how we heal.”
Joel nodded and took a second roast-beef sandwich. “I wonder what he’d do if he discovered something, some combination of genes, say, that produced substances that caused rapid healing. Who would he tell?”
“No one,” I said. “The Silks would never let him tell anyone.”
“Maybe he just wants it for himself,” Wright said. “Maybe he just wants to be able to heal the way Shori did.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe anyone would want to go through a healing like that. I can’t begin tell you what the pain was like.”
They all looked at me, and I realized that the doctor wasn’t the only one who wanted to heal the way I did.
I spread my hands. “I’m sharing the ability with you in the only way I can,” I said. “You’re already better at healing than you were.”
They nodded and opened more food, soda, and tall brown bottles of beer.
After a while I said, “I have to ask you something, and I need you to think about the question and be honest.” I paused and looked at each of them. “Have any of you had a problem with either of the Braithwaites or their symbionts?” I asked.
There was silence. Brook had lain down on her back on her towel and closed her eyes, but she was not dozing. Celia was sitting next to Joel, glancing at him now and then. Her scent let me know that she was very much attracted to him. He, on the other hand, was glancing at Wright who had sat down next to me, taken my gloved hand, kissed it, bit it a little as he looked at me, then held it between his own hands. He was showing off. And for the moment, I was letting him get away with it.
“The Braithwaites,” Celia said. “Joan could cut glass with that tongue of hers, but I think she’s really okay. She just says what she means.”
“Are you thinking about moving in with the Braithwaites?” Joel asked.
“I am, yes, for a while … if they’ll have me. That’s why I’m asking all of you whether you’ve seen anything or know anything against them. If you have reason to want to avoid them, tell me now.”
“I like them,” Joel said. “They’re strong, decent people, not bigots like the Silks and the Dahlmans and a couple of the other Council members.”
“I barely know the Braithwaites,” Brook said. “I danced with one of their symbionts at a party.” She smiled. “He was okay, and I got the impression he was happy, that he liked being their symbiont. That’s usually a good sign.”
I got the impression she thought the Braithwaite symbiont was more than just “okay.” Brook might wind up enjoying our stay with the Braithwaites more than the rest of us—if the Braithwaites agreed to let me visit them for a while.
“So you’re not thinking of trying to get them to adopt you?” Joel asked.
“I don’t believe I want to be adopted,” I said. “I can’t remember my female family at all, but I’m part of them. I can learn about them and see that their memory is continued by continuing their family. If I’m adopted, my female family vanishes into history just like my male family did. And I’ve promised to mate with the Gordons.” I thought of Daniel and almost smiled. “I don’t know whether that will happen, but I hope it will, and I’m not going to do anything to prevent it.”